Sweet Nightingale.
My sweetheart, come along,
Don’t you hear the fond song,
The sweet notes of the nightingale flow?
Don’t you hear the fond tale
Of the sweet nightingale,
As she sings in the valley below?
Pretty Betty, don’t fail,
For I’ll carry your pail
Safe home to your cot as we go;
You shall hear the fond tale
Of a sweet nightingale,
As she sings in the valley below.
Pray let me alone,
I have hands of my own,
Along with you, Sir, I’ll not go,
To hear the fond tale
Of the sweet nightingale,
As she sings in the valley below.
Pray sit yourself down
With me on the ground,
On this bank where the primroses grow;
You shall hear the fond tale
Of the sweet nightingale,
As she sings in the valley below.
The couple agreed,
And were married with speed,
And soon to the church did they go;
No more is she afraid
For to walk in the shade,
Nor sit in those valleys below.